Disposable Souls
by FacelessStranger
Summary: This story idea occured to me after a recent episode where they did away with Gil...Please read and review......and yeah I don't own any of these characters and all that...


"This is it," Gil thought eagerly as he adjusted his brand new uniform with one hand and tightly grasped his gun with the other,"the first day of my new job!!! Oh, I got a good feeling about this one. Yep, I think that this is where ol' Gil is finally going to succeed. Aww, heck, I bet that after just a week or so they promote me to head of security. Why'd I ever go wasting my time selling doorbells or working in that crazy real estate office anyway? Oh well, all that's behind me now. I got a feelin' that this is where ol' Gil finally succeeds at last!!!" Gil took a few steps towards the center of the bank where all the customers were gathered and, of course, was shot several times by a bank robber. Gil clutched his chest as copious amounts of blood poured from his wound. The intense pain which he found himself experiencing mercifully ended a moment later when he lost consciousness.

The very next thing he knew, Gil found himself in a room that he had never seen before that was full of people who looked vaguely familiar. It resembled a waiting room one might find inside a doctor's office despite being significantly larger than any waiting room which one might expect to see. The walls were painted beige and the carpet which covered the floor was light blue. What looked like cheap paintings of nondescript pastoral scenes were hung every feet on the wall. Folding chairs were placed against the walls in a row which made a half-circle around one half of the room. Some of the folding chairs had been removed and small tables full of little things like magazines sat in between several of the chairs. In the center of the room were two large white couches placed back to back. Two doors were on either of the corners of the room that weren't covered with chairs. One of them had the word 'exit' printed on it and the other word 'welcome' written on it. There was also a large glass window that looked like it would have the receptionists located behind it but it was far too dark behind the window to see what was actually there.

Gil found himself ignominiously sprawled out on the floor in front of one of the couches. Two people were currently seated on it. One was a large African-American man who wore what remained of his balding hair tied back in thick dread locks. He wore red suit and seemed to be doing a crossword puzzle. The other person seated on the couch was an elderly woman who was reading a magazine named 'infinity' with a picture of Franklin Delano Roosevelt on the cover. Both of them, along with everyone else in the room, stopped what they were doing and studied Gil as he regained consciousness.

"Salutations," said the African American on the couch with a broad grin,"call me Bleeding Gums. Bleeding Gums Murphy."

"Hello there, dear," said the elderly woman seated next to him,"and welcome. My name is Beatrice Simmons." She held out her hand for Gil to shake. Gil awkwardly took her hand and shook it.

"Umm, yeah," Gil said uncertainly,"So, is this that new hospital that just opened in Shelbyville or what? Cause the insurance at my new job doesn't kick in yet at my new job for another couple months yet and I don't think ol' Gil can afford to go to anywhere but maybe ol' Springfield General hospital right now."

"Hospital?," Bleeding Gums asked as he and most of the people in the room chuckled,"This sure ain't no hospital, my friend."

"Oh my GOSH!!," Gil gasped in astonishment as he suddenly reached down and felt his chest,"What on earth happened to my wounds?"

"Okay," Gil anxiously added a moment later,"just what is this place?"

"Ahh, that" Bleeding Gums said wistfully with a shake of his head,"is the million dollar question right there, ain't it?"

"You aren't real," snapped a thin, intense middle-aged man in glasses wearing cheap business clothes who was sitting rigidly on the couch and twisting a magazine into a tube,"and none of the rest of you are, either. That's right, I know that all of this is just part of some sick mind game that Homer Simpson is playing with me. Oh, but he's going to pay for this. That fat slob will regret the day he ever heard the name Frank Grimes. Yes, that stupid jerk is going to pay."

"Now, now," a middle-aged woman with orangish-brown hair chided him as she shook her finger at him,"Judge not, lest ye be judged. You're right about none of this being real. However, it wasn't Homer Simpson who put all this together. No, it was Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. You see, this is all part of a test of our faith. All of this will fade away on Judgement Day and, before you know it, all the pure and virtuous Christians from all across the land will be seated in places of glory and honor in Our Lord's Kingdom where they will be able to look down into the fires of hades where all the unbelievers who failed to live as the gospel directed them to will be roasting in eternal torment and all those who did live their lives in a Godly way will be able to take pride in the fact that THEY didn't make such horrible decisions because..."

"That's enough, Maude," Beatrice Simmons cut her off by saying,"whatever happened to 'Judge not, lest ye be judged,' hmm? I'd agree that this place is some sort of heavenly waiting room but I highly doubt that the Good Lord is the mean-spirited brute you make him out to be."

"Well, wherever we're headed," a well-dressed elderly gentleman said with a cultured accent,"it had better be someplace in keeping with my stature. Why, I'm not just some random person off the street. I was a pillar of the community. I was the oldest person in town when I passed away. I introduced the toothbrush to Springfield and entertained cheering crowds as the only member of the Springfield basketball team. I'll have you know that what it was that did me in was the shock to my system caused by a kiss from a world famous singing sensation. I've amassed a great deal during my long life and I've become accustomed to a certain style of living. I do hope that soon this will be taken into account and I will be moved somewhere more appropriate for someone of my standing."

"Don't you see," said another elderly man who was shabbily dressed and resembled Gil slightly,"that none of that matters? Doggone it, I wasted my whole life! I threw all those years away selling pretzels and selling franchises to my lousy pretzel vendor business. And for what? When I saw that there was a car about to hit me and realized that my life might very well be about to end, I realized how stupid I was. There's so much beauty. It is really just everywhere. There are so many stupid things that everyone thinks are so dang important and so many crucial things that no one pays any attention to. It is amazing. It really is." When he finished saying all this, he went back to playing with a small wooden toy train set that was on the table next to his chair.

"So, as you can see," Bleeding Gums Murphy said to Gill,"where we're at depends on who you ask. As for myself, I think this is just some place where all the cats that the universe is through with get dumped."

"This all so strange,"Gil said as he held his hand to his forehead,"the strangest part of this is probably how hard it is to put together things to say."

"Uh huh," Bleeding Gums Murphy said with a nod,"we all noticed that. It's almost like while we were alive there was someone telling us what to do and writing what we said for us but here we're all on our now as far as all that goes."

"Right," Gil said as he got up and sat down on the empty couch behind the one where Bleeding Gums Murphy and Beatrice Simmons were sitting,"exactly." Everyone else in the room gradually stopped staring at him and went back to whatever they were doing. As he took in his surroundings and thought about what he wanted to do next, Gil's sense of disorientation didn't go away but he felt as though he was starting to get used to it.


End file.
